


First Impressions

by gaylock



Series: OneShots [6]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: AU Johnlock meeting, Alternate Universe, Innocent, Johnlock - Freeform, Johnlock Fluff, Johnlock meeting for the first time, Kinda what I think should of happened, M/M, One Shot, POV Sherlock Holmes, Sherlock Holmes and Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-27
Updated: 2016-01-27
Packaged: 2018-05-16 17:12:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5833792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaylock/pseuds/gaylock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An AU meeting between John and Sherlock, where Sherlock's feelings go rampant and John smiles like the sun.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Impressions

Your flat mate is coming today. You mindlessly fiddle with the dials on the microscope in front of you, intelligent mind wandering. To all the people in the room you appear calm and unconcerned, intent on whatever new experiment you’re conducting. But if someone were to look closer, they might notice the slight tremor in your left hand, or the way your breathing is shallow and inconsistent. You are sure that your skin is slightly redder than its normal pale hue, and it is even possible that your generally unemotional face is portraying the slight discontent you are for some strange reason feeling.

Okay, maybe it was more than **SLIGHT** discontent. More like major discontent. Being unfamiliar with such feelings, you can’t deduce anything. The symptoms aren’t consistent with any sickness you know of, nor are they symptoms of drug withdrawal. After all, you have **PERSONAL EXPERIENCE** with those symptoms. Your breathing gets shallower as your heart rate speeds up, and you can hear the sound of Mrs. Hudson opening the door. You hear her voice, and then the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs. Two pairs of footsteps.

You recognize Mrs. Hudson’s step, slightly uneven because of her bad hip. But the other set of footsteps…they are new. Strong but light, as if the person they belong to knows how to walk quietly. They are also slightly uneven, and your heart speeds up even faster, if that is possible. _‘What the bloody hell is wrong with me?’_ You think, as the door opens and Mrs. Hudson enters. “Sherlock, this is Mr.-”

“Watson. John Watson.” Suddenly your breathing evens out, your heart rate goes back to normal. Muscles loosen that you hadn’t even known were tight, and you can practically feel the flush leave your face. Grey eyes flick up and fix on the man in front of you; Watson. John Watson. Your eyes barely take him in before you’re off, telling John everything about him, everything you’ve deduced. It isn’t something you mean to do, it isn’t something you want to do. It’s like an instinct, and you feel bad about it right after, knowing that your chance for a flat mate is fucked now, and you are positive you don’t want another flat mate if it isn’t John, but that doesn’t really make sense, seeing as you only met the man today…Whatever. Doesn’t matter now, seeing as you’ve already gone and fucked everything-

“Brilliant. That…that was bloody brilliant.”

-up, and its too late to do anything but pretend not to care and- _wait_. What?

“I….what?” You say, and you haven’t sounded this incoherent and unintelligent and not together since you were a child and _Mycroft_ was the smart one. You're feeling so confused and embarrassed and awkward, because what you heard -what you think you heard- that can't have been what he meant, right?

“Brilliant.” And he smiles at you, a small amused smile, eyes sparkling with amusement and awe. You aren’t used to this, that isn’t the response you expected, not at all and its weird, you have no idea what to say to it.

“Uhm…thank you. That isn’t what people normally say.” You cringe now, why on earth would you bring up what others say? Now he’s going to backtrack and say the normal thing and ugh, you’ve ruined everything like you always do.

“Well, what do they normally say?” And he’s still smiling, and it lights up his whole face - no, lights up the whole room, and you know that even though you’ve only known this man for exactly three minutes and forty seven seconds, you know that you’ll miss that smile.

“Piss off.” You say, wanting to turn away, but waiting for the look of understanding and disgust that you’re so sure is coming. Waiting for the inevitable sorry, and goodbye and then the sound of retreating footsteps. But those things never come, and you’re left waiting because suddenly he throws his head back and laughs, and if his smile lit up the room then his laugh lights up the world and you wish you could drown in the sound. Its the most delightful thing you have ever heard and you suddenly know that if you never do anything else, you always want to be the reason for that laugh. Your lips quirk up in a smile as your body fills with relief and you can’t help but feel grateful - so fucking grateful - to whatever greater being is responsible for you meeting this wonderful young man.


End file.
